


Drunk and Stupid

by DawnSkull



Category: iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-07-15 22:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16072967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnSkull/pseuds/DawnSkull
Summary: Drunk and stupid... really?[ The storyline was altered in chapter2. If you have read this, do read it again to see what changed! ]





	1. Drunk

**Author's Note:**

> This is my last piece before going into hiatus!  
> Actually, I never planned to type this. The idea came all of the sudden and I typed awayyy.
> 
> I know, I know, the song used in this fic later on is actually a song meant for another ship of Junhoe's, but I couldn't help but use it because... because. Don't bash me okeh xD
> 
> Anyway, do tell me what you guys think of this fic. Not only do your comments help me improve to be a better author, but your comments have become a drive for me to continue writing. Really, that's the only reason why I still work hard to continue BMS with good chapters and not rushed ones, and why I haven't totally abandoned Only Mine yet.
> 
> Enough of rambling, lol. I hope you guys enjoy this fic! Tell me what you think.

Hanbin’s lips remained pursed as he composed another song for the next comeback, one out of the many he already created, all complete with demo versions for the other members to learn them. He worked on the more slow and melancholy song that time around, because that was the only thing he was in the mood for.

His eyes, lidded by exhaustion and a nagging desolation, flickered to the small clock on the wall to his left.

9:58 PM. Hanbin sighed.

_He’ll be back soon._

Hanbin used to be the happiest person alive whenever he knew that a certain someone would return from wherever they went. He would have to hold himself from waiting by the entrance and flinging his arms open for a hug, or bolting to the person right as their first foot landed into his studio. He would have to hold in a beaming smile and the invisible puppy’s tail that would wag excitedly behind him.

It was the best way to keep his respected image as the leader, after all, even if that person already knew how much of an actual crackhead Hanbin was. At least it would conceal his feelings if anything.

However, the last few days—or maybe weeks, who knew? Hanbin didn’t want to think—had become agonizing episodes for him. Instead of the usual tired call of “I’m back”, he would be greeted by a giddy smile. Instead of getting asked how his day was, he would hear stories about the other’s outings—or rather _dates_

When Hanbin first found out that Junhoe was interested in a guy, his heart fell to his stomach and his chest constricted to the point where he was speechless. Junhoe looked hopeful back then, saying how he finally met someone who probably had feelings for him too, when Hanbin was always there, feeling but never saying.

It was Hanbin’s fault, of course, because he didn’t bother to tell Junhoe about his own feelings, too wrapped up in the thought of “waiting for the right time”. He waited too long, perhaps, because what once used to be discreet flirting and lingering smiles on Junhoe’s end turned to nothing; or maybe they turned to someone else.

Knowing that Junhoe spent his time trying his chances with someone else already made his heart wither, but the fact that Junhoe always returned with tons of stories about that man, his joys and his dreams, speared through him and made him bleed. Even so, he always supported Junhoe. Through Junhoe’s hopes and wishes, Hanbin was always right around the corner for him.

A lazy rap of knuckles against the door brought Hanbin’s attention away from his screen, now looking at the door that opened to the man who could always make his heart beat rapidly, be it in a good way or a bad one. It might have been the latter that time.

“Hey, June-yah. You look like shit. What happened?” Hanbin asked, hopping to his feet and stretching a bit before he made his way to someone whom he could call his best friend. That best friend of his turned to him with a deep scowl on his face.

“What do you think happened?” Junhoe grumbled, the look of disappointment printed on his face with ink that could be permanent, not if Hanbin could help with it, as per usual. Hanbin reached up and patted Junhoe on his rosy cheek, a sign of post-drinking for that half-sober man.

“You chickened out and didn’t tell him? … Again?”

Junhoe groaned and shuffled over to the cheap couch at the other end of the room, tearing the cap off of his head and tossing it somewhere over his shoulder, leaving it lying haphazardly on the floor before Hanbin picked it up.

“I told him,” Junhoe said first before he face-planted onto the couch, wriggling around to make himself comfortable on the furniture that he had wordlessly claimed as his own. The next bits came out muffled. “But he thought I was stupid and drunk and that I was talking nonsense.”

Hanbin frowned slightly, pulling his wheeled chair to set it right next to Junhoe on the couch and he sat there, scooting a little closer to Junhoe. “So he just didn’t think you were serious? That’s no problem. Just get some guts to confess without being intoxicated. He’ll take you seriously.”

Junhoe tittered humorlessly against the couch. “You’re some optimist… Forget it, Bin. I don’t think he does or ever will feel the same way about me. I could have been hallucinating or was delusional, probably. I’m just stuck in those tragic one-sided love stories like what the dramas on TV always have.”

Hanbin sighed inaudibly as he reached over to pet Junhoe gently on the head before rubbing comforting circles onto his back. “And you’re a drama queen. Man up, Junhoe, it’s not like it’s the end of the world.”

“It felt like he was my world... and that ended. Officially.”

Those words stung Hanbin in the chest and it hurt more than he thought it would. Hanbin clenched his jaws to bear it, to hold in the pain that would pull open the floodgates, to refrain from shouting his frustration at the person whom he tried so hard to support and care for… like how a friend should, and maybe a little more.

“If only things were as easy as how they are with you…”

Hanbin perked up when he heard the quiet voice that didn’t sound so muffled anymore. He looked down to see Junhoe peering up at him, and the pain in his chest became a burn that made him want to scream his lungs out, but he didn’t

“Don’t bullshit, June. I’m your friend. He’s your- uh, romantic interest. Those things are different, you can’t compare,” Hanbin shook his head and leaned back into his seat, eyes casted to every other corner of the room as long as he didn’t look at Junhoe. Junhoe didn’t have to see the gloss in his eyes. He didn’t want Junhoe to start questioning.

“Well, I mean, theoretically, if I were to date you, would it be easy? Would it be as easy as how things have always been between us? Or would the thought of anything romantic ruin us? _Will I ruin us?_ ” Junhoe asked, eyebrows knit together in serious contemplation, body shifting into a sitting position and subconsciously patting the spot next to him for Hanbin.

Hanbin shook his head in refusal, not wanting to get any close to the source of his hidden torture, but Junhoe, subconscious anymore or not, was adamant. Junhoe grabbed at Hanbin’s wrist and tugged the older over towards him on the couch. Hanbin stumbled, but he managed to land himself onto the couch instead of onto Junhoe.

“Jeez, rude!” Hanbin admonished and swatted Junhoe on the shoulder. When he recoiled, he pulled his knees up to his chest and scooted a little farther from Junhoe, not wanting Junhoe to touch him anymore. Nothing good came from that. Right there as he sat next to Junhoe, the younger asking a question that was too hard to answer on a whim, was nothing good.

Junhoe eventually looked up with distressed, curious eyes waiting for an answer. Hanbin was not sure what he should say, because Junhoe didn’t look like he asked it as a joke. Junhoe questioned, truly, and so Hanbin will answer just the same.

“Well, I don’t- I… don’t think so, no. I think we could make it. It won’t be easy, because nothing ever is, but we can do it… together,” Hanbin said, voice as soft as it could be as his gaze fleeted down to the shiny laminate surface of the studio floor. He answered what he truly thought, and even though his chest weighed like a thousand bricks, he felt a little lighter having said what he did.

When Hanbin finally faced Junhoe again, he didn’t know that he missed the long, wistful stare that Junhoe gave him, confused yet enlightened, but overall in awe. Hanbin was met with a lopsided frown instead, making the heaviness in his heart feel bone-crushing.

“Yeah, right,” Junhoe muttered. He let out a dragging groan then tilted himself over. Before Hanbin could process what was happening, Junhoe had pulled Hanbin's legs down and laid with his head on Hanbin’s lap, arm strewed over his eyes as a worn out sigh slipped past his lips.

“I’m done, Bin. I’m done.”

Hanbin stared blankly at the arm that covered Junhoe's eyes. He supposed that Junhoe’s words meant what they obviously did; Hanbin’s chances were out as well.

It was fine, Hanbin tried to tell himself, because all the chances would have been put to waste anyway. Hanbin wasn’t brave enough to ever tell Junhoe about his feelings towards the younger. It was all a lost cause.

Hanbin carded his fingers through his dongsaeng’s hair, trying to comfort the other when his own heart was bruised and scabbed. "You’ll get your chance, I’m serious. Trust me on that.”

Junhoe didn’t say anything in return. He exhaled a shaky breath before turning over, his back facing Hanbin. Not even a minute later, Hanbin felt the fabric of his pants growing a damp spot.

Instead of mirroring the action in secret, Hanbin held his tears back and continued to stroke Junhoe’s hair. The younger would fall asleep eventually; safe from his sufferings at least for a while.

And Hanbin would tuck him in his embrace, secured in the nook of the studio’s couch, two bodies bundled together like they were meant to stay that way forever; warm, safe, peaceful.

But not quite happy.


	2. Stupid

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *unbeta-ed*

“Come in.”

Jinhwan came into the studio one day, face tinted with concern.

“What’s up?” Hanbin asked, turning to Jinhwan with his own furrow of brows.

It was normal for the eldest member to come over to the studio to check on him. The same could be said for when there were problems concerning the team and the members. As the leader and the eldest hyung, Hanbin and Jinhwan often searched for each other for advice or comfort.

Jinhwan crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the door, not bothering to walk any further into the room.

“Junhoe’s missing.”

“What?” Hanbin sputtered, jolting up from his chair.

“He was out drinking with me earlier. On the way back he said he wanted to ‘have a walk to clear his mind’. He didn’t look so drunk so I let him… Maybe I shouldn’t have,” Jinhwan huffed, staring at the toe cap of his shoes.

Hanbin’s brows only furrowed more. It was not because of worry this time, but rather because he was confused on why Jinhwan was still calm in that situation. The worry was there, but there was no urgency.

“Okay, have you told the manager then? We need to find him!” Hanbin pointed out, rushing to throw his jacket on. He made his way to the door where Jinhwan stopped him. The older was uncertain, but he looked up at Hanbin nonetheless.

“No. I think you know where he might be.”

Hanbin’s eyes widened.

“Shit.”

.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

_“Even if my sloppy declaration seems corny or unbelievable, it's not something I'm just saying.”_

Hanbin clicked his tongue, chest heaving as he raced to the source of the raw, drunken voice in the distance.

_“I'll probably never do something like this again... But as the night becomes light, I will hold you in my arms once again and tell you that I love you.”_

When Hanbin finally reached the park, barely lit by a single lamppost nearby, he spotted Junhoe’s large figure slumped on a lone bench. His steps didn’t falter as he ran straight to the other, and soon enough he noticed the shiny glass bottle clutched in Junhoe’s right hand.

Even though Junhoe’s brain had only half of its functions working correctly, he looked up when Hanbin’s shoes made the grass rustle underneath him. Junhoe was not far gone, but he was not all there either. Hanbin’s concerned eyes met with Junhoe’s hazed ones, and Junhoe smiled dopily.

_“Why are you just smiling? Do you hear this as a joke? Why are you not saying a word, But looking at me as you would a child? Whene-_

“I’m not smiling and I was too shocked and disappointed to say anything,” Hanbin countered even though he knew that all Junhoe was saying was only part of the song. Junhoe’s dopy smile stretched wider.

“M’sorry,” Junhoe mumbled before raising the bottle in hand again, drinking down more of his favorite intoxicating beverage. Junhoe must have drank a lot just now, because Hanbin knew that Junhoe was not at all a lightweight.

Hanbin held out his hand. “Give.”

Junhoe whined in protest but he reluctantly passed the bottle anyway. He watched wistfully as the older poured the (not so) valuable liquid onto the grass then set the bottle aside.

“Come, let’s go back,” Hanbin said, knowing that at these times all Junhoe needed was someone to gather him up and hold him together, but Junhoe shook his head.

“Stay here with me? Just for a little longer…”

Upon the weak-voiced request, Hanbin sighed faintly and gave in to the saddened eyes that stared up at him, pleading. He shuffled over to the other side of the bench and sat down, hands stuffed into his jacket as he slid lower to feel more comfortable on the wooden article.

“So…” Hanbin prompted, not bothering to ask anything in particular because he knew Junhoe would just start a word-vomit anyway, whether on topic or not. Hanbin glanced at Junhoe and he could see that the latter was fiddling with his fingers, an empty feeling from having his bottle taken away.

“Why’s it so hard to tell you, Bin?” Junhoe started, sounding small and scared; a total flip from his bold singing from earlier. “It’s always so difficult no matter how hard I try.”

Hanbin turned to him and raised his brow. “Hm?”

“Maybe ‘coz you’re too good for me,” Junhoe mumbled, closing his eyes as he propped his head up on his hand, his elbow resting on the bench armrest.

“What exactly are you implying here?” Hanbin asked, half understanding but the other half telling him it wasn’t what he was thinking, because that would be absurd.

“I’m saying that you’re too good for me… and that I can’t have you even if I try,” Junhoe said softly, eyes remaining lidded as he began humming a slow tune.

Hanbin looked on questioningly and pursed his lips, heart beating in a strange rhythm, not exactly wild but not content at the same time. “I… don’t get it. June, you’re drunk. Let’s just get you-“

“Sometimes I think that you make songs just for me… because every song suits my voice in one way or another,” Junhoe interrupted, not even hearing what Hanbin said.

Hanbin blinked at Junhoe, and then he shook his head even if Junhoe couldn’t see it. “Well, that’s because your voice suits every song I make, actually,” he explained as-a-matter-of-factly.

Junhoe hummed a little more before he tried again. “You always give me the best parts, the parts that showcase the best of me for the world to see.”

Hanbin sighed, having an internal panic. He wondered if Junhoe had really thought all those happenings were because of Hanbin’s biased towards him. While maybe the small part of Hanbin did always have Junhoe in mind, he was still a fair leader who would distribute lines by how he deemed fit.

“That’s because you’re one of the main vocalists, June. It’s natural for you to get the best parts,” Hanbin tried again, feeling bad for extinguishing drunken Junhoe’s hopes because the younger visibly deflated.

“So all the encouraging smiles and gentle gazes were j-just because you were doing your thing, huh?”

Hanbin’s flinched when the words struck his eardrums, hearing the break in Junhoe’s voice, but Junhoe didn’t seem to move from where he was. Only his eyes opened and he stared out to the darkness that drenched the tranquil environment before him.

“I knew it…” Junhoe’s voice came barely above a whisper. From Hanbin’s position, Hanbin could see how the corners of Junhoe’s eyes and nose were dusted heavily with red. Worried, Hanbin scooted closer to Junhoe and peered over to see his face, finding that a single tear had made its trail down Junhoe’s cheek.

Junhoe didn’t seem like he realized he was crying.

“Junhoe?”

“That’s why I never told you…” Junhoe whispered, more tears slipping through his lashes, and on his face was a painful smile. “That’s why I never told you…” He repeated, quieter, if it was even possible.

Hanbin held Junhoe by his shoulders and turned Junhoe so he would look at him, displaying his mess of a face but his lips smiled still. Hanbin gritted his teeth and took in deep breaths, the scene in front of him wringed his heart. Junhoe seemed downright broken, and by the looks of it, it could be Hanbin’s fault.

“What is it, Junhoe? What did you not tell me?” Hanbin asked as his fingers gingerly brush the tears off of Junhoe’s face, only to get replaced with more warm streams. Hanbin barely managed to catch the shrug that Junhoe gave him, because Junhoe’s body already shook continuously as he sobbed.

“I dunno… I n-never thought of what I would tell you. I don’t know h-how to tell you. I think I gave up before I could think; I’m not good with words… I’m drunk and s-stupid, you know,” Junhoe said between harsh sobs, his lips parting for a breathy chuckle to let go of some pressure in his chest.

Confused, sad, angry and fond all at the same time—though he wasn’t quite sure towards who or what—Hanbin pulled Junhoe into a tight hug and let the younger bury his head into his shoulder, his hands placed firmly against Junhoe’s back. Junhoe didn’t react to the hug much. His arms hung limply between them, but he did rest his weight onto Hanbin.

“Even if you’re drunk and stupid, that doesn’t change anything. You can always tell me, in your own words, you can tell me whatever, and I’ll do my best to understand. I promise I will. I always do…” Hanbin murmured softly into Junhoe’s ear as he rubbed Junhoe’s back absentmindedly.

“But I don’t know what to say, Bin. H-how do I say it? How do I say that I’ve loved you f-from the very start?”

Hanbin froze, breath caught in his lungs.

“How do I tell you that I’ve always loved everything about you? And- and what if you get angry? What if you question whether my love is true? Because I tried to date someone else… when in my mind was always you…”

Hanbin mouth hung open but no words came out, so he closed it back. Everytime he felt like speaking, his mouth screwed shut, silence throughout. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but at the same time Junhoe sounded so sincere. The silence took too long, so Junhoe spoke up again.

“Often when I’m bold enough, I’m drunk; and when I’m sober, I’m scared. But if I told you while I’m d-drunk, would you believe me? Or would you think I’m drunk? And stupid? And drunk? And-“

“Enough, Junhoe,” Hanbin managed to say, firm and solid, regrettably making the younger flinch.

“But I’m scared…”

“And I- …I love you,” Hanbin blurted, because his heart felt strangely full and he couldn’t keep those words contained. He pushed Junhoe away just enough to see his reaction, but what he saw was a perplexed Junhoe with tear-stained cheeks.

“I wish you could say that to me one day…” Junhoe mumbled, his hazed mind confusing even the most straightforward of things. Hanbin shook his head and laughed, laughed from a genuine tickle in his ribcage than a suppressed cry, pulling Junhoe’s face down to gently peck his forehead.

“Then I’ll tell you when you wake up, okay? I promise. Now let’s go home.”

“… Okay.”

.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.  
.

Early in the morning when Junhoe woke up with a groan, hangover weighing onto his head like an elephant, Hanbin fulfilled his promise and not too long after, he took Junhoe’s lips in his.

“H-hyung?” Junhoe stuttered, face turning beet red as he stared at his hyung incredulously. He pursed his lips where another plump pair touched, feeling a lasting warmth that made his heart skip a beat, but his stomach churned weirdly.

“You heard me,” Hanbin grinned up at him, cheeks pushed up to form crinkles by his eyes. “I love you, Koo Junhoe. It isn’t so hard to say it back, right?”

Junhoe blinked at Hanbin, mouth agape from utter confusion. Suddenly, he scrunched his nose when a wave of pain that shot through his head.

“Egh, it’s too early for all this,” Junhoe grumbled, fingers massaging his temples as a useless attempt to soothe his headache.

It really wasn’t the best time to hear all that. It wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t how Junhoe imagined himself living in because he was in pain and could barely process much of anything, and most importantly, Hanbin found out from his drunken self; because sober Junhoe was too much of a whimp.

After all those years, that was how he finally learned of Hanbin’s love for him? Through Hanbin’s trust on a drunk Junhoe? Junhoe willed himself to think through his pain and then he realized that it was so stupid, so pathetic.

For someone who he had always wanted to devote his everything to, a drunk confession was nothing but a point of shame for him.

“You’re listening to me when I’m _drunk?_ Hyung, are you kidding me?” Junhoe asked, disappointment and frustration as clear as the daylight in his choice of tone. Like the two main themes of his life, when he didn’t think of himself as drunk, he would think of himself as stupid.

Hanbin deflated right at that moment, his bravado from earlier wiping out like a flame getting extinguished by a bucketful of water. He watched as Junhoe groaned painfully and rolled over, giving his back to Hanbin. Hanbin guessed that it was the hangover’s work that ruined the moment, but the next words that he heard shook him to his core.

“That’s pathetic.”

Junhoe’s comment was given offhandedly, so nonchalant that Hanbin’s world stopped for a few dragging seconds. His fingers subconsciously curl into the covers of Junhoe’s bed and his grip was vice-like, but the fabric was easily snatched away from him when Junhoe pulled his end over himself and burrowed into the thick cotton material.

“W-what?” Hanbin inquired, more in a confused daze than an actual question, and he sat up from his lying position, feeling a strong urge to escape from the unexpected reality.

“I said it’s pathetic, hyung,” Junhoe repeated in a sharper tone and that was when Hanbin found himself scrambling off the bed. Suddenly, he felt like an intruder, like an unwanted visitor.

_Go away._

The words were never said, but Hanbin understood why Junhoe hid himself under his blanket. The younger had finally closed his world off to Hanbin. He was pushed out and given no other way in. In his moment of heartbreak, he couldn’t feel the violent quiver of his lip and the searing sting by the corners of his eyes.

“So you don’t love me?” Hanbin asked, voice so small and frail and unbelieving but Junhoe didn’t do as much as flinch. The silence was too long, too deafening, so Hanbin rushed out of the room to break away from it. He could barely breathe with his constricted chest. It felt so tight. It was like was suffocating and the world spun around him.

_But I love you._

He exited the dorms and the building with the empty buzz still resounding in his ear. He made it to his safe haven, his studio, and decided that the noise could only be drowned by greater, more damaging sounds.

With that, he pulled off his masks and tore down his walls, leaving a gaping hole for the pain to consume him, and so he broke down with sobs that tore through his chest and wracked his body like an onslaught. A single tear gave way to an unbroken stream as he bawled his eyes out. Bruising bite marks were engraved into his knuckles as he bit into his fist, stifling his pitiful wails and cries.

When was the last time he had done this? When was the last time he felt this way?

It was when, for the first time, he discovered Junhoe’s fond smile wasn’t because of him, and maybe now it will never be till the day the sun sets on his time.

_I love you too much._

Hanbin tucked himself into the corner of the studio couch, the space made for one but somehow there was always two. He was cold and broken, longing for a calming warmth to hold him close and keep his shattered pieces together. He cried and cried until his throat was sore and his eyes were dry, his body frail and shivering. Junhoe never came for him.

Hanbin feared he would forget one day; how it would be to feel warm, safe, peaceful.

Happiness was already long forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized that I wasn't satisfied with how I ended this fic. I rushed and wanted to soothe too quickly.  
> Now have this... how I've always planned to write this fic and now I'm finally able to.
> 
> Totally not one of the updates anyone has been waiting for :')  
> FYI, don't hate on Junhoe because of this.  
> Not everyone understands the pain of saying something so important when not in the right mind.  
> Not everyone understands the pain of living as if you're a coward.


End file.
